The Kardashian App: Kill Me Now

WARNING: THIS IS A RANT. ENTER WITH CAUTION, AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Have you ever wanted to ask Kim Kardashian for advice on relationships, beauty, health, fashion or style? Why yes Apple Store, it’s all I’ve ever wanted in my life, thanks for asking.
Watch as Kim strikes her signature poses or blows you a kiss — even locate your closest Sephora to find her new perfume! I assume Kimmy’s “signature pose” is lying on an examination table in her plastic surgeon’s office, talking on her phone and making bad choices. Oh please, let her do that on our screens! As for locating the closest Sephora, that probably implies that 1) the application is stalking you, and 2) that your ensuing conversation with the salesclerk at Sephora will go something like this:

You: Hi, so ohmygod, I was playing the Kim Kardashian: Hollywood app, and like Kim told me that you were near me and that you had her perfume, so um since I’m sort of addicted to the Kardashian’s makeup I was like ‘holy sh*t yes’ so I got in my convertible and I drove here like, really fast.
Salesclerk: [shocked silence. Symptoms may include open mouth, wide, unblinking eyes and a vacant stare]
You: No but seriously I like have the twenty dollar nail polish and the fake eyelashes and everything.
Salesclerk: [slowly regaining consciousness] I.. um.. yeah, one of your eyelashes is stuck to your cheek.
You: Oh gosh silly ole’ me, I’m not very good with the glue, I kinda get it all over myself. So the perfume?

I gotta say guys, applications like these are slowly making me lose faith in humanity. I love technology, I really do: I marvel at my phone telling me that it’ll be raining in Normandy for the next year and a half, or that the Mets finally won a game, or that I’m ten minutes from home in normal traffic conditions. Honestly, living in a world without apps on my phone seems mightely boring (although granted, that might just be because I’m an Internet obsessed teenager), but the apps have to at least be useful.

A Kim Kardashian app teaches its users (who I’m guessing are about 99% women and 1% men) that it’s better to live in a fake, superficial world than in the real one. Sure, the real one is filled with unpleasant things such as, to cite a few; the alarming disappearance of cookies, deadlines and/or alarm clocks but these daft everyday annoyances are part of who we are and what we have to deal with. As a player, your celebrity’s problems are horrible boyfriends and bad makeovers. Boo-freakin-hoo. I understand a little light hearted fun; I downloaded the app myself and giggled at its stupidness with a couple of my friends, but looking over the reviews and some articles on the Web, I realized the horrible extent of people’s addiction to this crap. It needs to stop; people need to focus on things that are more important rather than spending hours on end squinting at their phone’s screen and wondering if they have enough imaginary money to buy that leather jacket Kim’s been telling them to or if they need to invest real money to buy fake cash.

I wish I didn’t care. I wish I could be CT, aloof and uncaring, laughing off stuff like this. Yet I do, and apps like these really get to me. In between the Kardashian app and the Yo app, I don’t know in what direction this world is heading. I think I’ll go watch all my favorite characters get killed in Game of Thrones now, and try and forget about the people moaning because their pixel avatar’s hair isn’t growing fast enough.

Live long and prosper \V/
Sincerely,
The Mostly Confused Teenager.

Bibliography: some Polish nutcase
 

Plastic Surgery and Me

My nose has always been a problem for me. Ever since I was a little girl I’ve had this complex that dictates that my nose is simply not up to snuff [bad pun intended]. Then I heard about plastic surgery which could give me the nose I wanted, and hope rose from the dust. Unfortunately for me I did a little research on the subject and decided that I hated the idea of plastic surgery with all my might.

I came to realize that the idea of changing one’s self for no good reason is perfectly appalling. Now I do understand why you would get plastic surgery if you had a birth defect or had been in a horrific accident, as long as it significantly changes your quality of life and the reason is sufficiently valid to trump the extraordinary amount of money that must be dumped into the procedure. For example if you’re being bullied I would consider it a logical course of action, even if my personal beliefs don’t agree with the fact that you’re bowing down to the pressure of society.

HOWEVER, I was watching a television program yesterday on the life of plastic surgeons in Beverly Hills and was shocked and horrified by what I saw. Please explain to me what the point of a boob job is? It was sickening, but for some reason I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the screen or change the channel (it’s the same thing when I come upon Toddlers and Tiaras or Here Comes Honey Boo Boo). I guess that I would say that I judge having a procedure such as a liposuction, body contouring or a thigh lift (I know right?) as taking the easy way out.

Things like a facelift make no sense to me whatsoever. People get old, deal with it! Just because you have a couple wrinkles doesn’t mean that you’re not beautiful. In fact in some cases getting rid of all those laugh lines can make things look very much worse than they were before. Think about Cher, she looks just awful, and she’s had practically every kind of plastic surgery available! She hardly looks human anymore!

Ugh?

A lot of celebrities seem to have bought into the whole plastic surgery thing, like Megan Fox. But why? She’s a natural beauty, that was proven when she was voted into the 100 sexiest women several times by several different magazines. So why the transformation? What did she physically need that she didn’t have? (oh my that does sound wrong doesn’t it?) I just don’t understand, and it makes me both sad and amazed that someone would do something like this to themselves. It’s kind of as if she is the original Transformer (get it? get it? get it? no? *shakes head in resignation*)

I’ll just end by saying that since I have found out all this sh*t about plastic surgery, I am much more appreciative of my nose, which I now realize is not so bad after all.

Live long and prosper \V/

Yours sincerely,

The Mostly Confused Teenager.

PS: I sincerely apologize if I have offended anyone with today’s rant, however this if my opinion and I will stick by it. So in short I’m actually not sorry at all.

EDIT: After having written this I galloped (yes, you read right) off to ask my mom if she would ever consider having plastic surgery. I was shocked that she answered yes, and when she added that she might someday get a facelift I swooned and over-dramatically pretended to faint. She laughed at me and said that when I had wrinkles on my forehead I would understand too. Humpf, I think not!